Page 49 of The Secret of the Dashing Detective
The apartment was neat and tidy, which she appreciated. But besides that, it was sparse, plain. Why, if she hadn’t known better, she would have wondered whether anyone lived here.
She turned to ask him why he had no adornments anywhere, but Betsy obviously guessed at what she was thinking.
“Matthew has always said he was too busy to make this a true home,” she said with pursed lips as she put Andrew down and allowed him to explore this new place. “I think he just always knew there was something else waiting for him.”
She placed a knowing look upon first Juliana and then Matthew before continuing into the room, arms crossed over her chest. She looked back at Juliana.
“Now, my lady, what do you think we should do to make this place a home?”
CHAPTER17
Matthew’s head was spinning by the time Juliana and Betsy were finished. They sat together, planning and scheming, deciding Betsy and Mary would set everything in motion before Friday. Juliana would have liked to have taken part in much of it herself, but it would be too difficult for her to find enough excuses to get away.
Matthew had enjoyed watching her play with Andrew more than he would have liked to admit. It wasn’t hard to picture Juliana as a mother someday, although he had to remind himself more than once that it wouldn’t be to his children, and that the nobility mothered in a much different manner than he was familiar.
He had returned to his office now to convene with his men and see if any of them had made any strides forward in following down the leads he had assigned to them all.
“Anderson?” he started, but the man was already shaking his head.
“The lord he won all off of the money off is dead. Couldn’t have been him. He had no living relatives who would take issue, either.”
“Pip?” he asked after nodding his thanks to Anderson.
“The banker he caused to lose his job received it back and doesn’t seem to hold any ill will. That being said, I still followed up. He wasn’t in London at the time of the duke’s death.”
Matthew continued around the room, but each lead died, one after another.
“Green?” he finished, hoping that he could count on Owen to have some good news for him.
“I’ve continued to follow up with Lewis, but he doesn’t seem to have any interaction with the family. The night of Lady Juliana’s abduction, he was at his mother’s house, as far as we can tell.”
Matthew nodded. “That’s good, although I don’t suppose his mother is necessarily a trustworthy source, either.”
“They could certainly be in this together.”
“Very well,” Matthew said with some resignation. His own assignment for the week had been to ascertain Lord Hemingway’s movements during the time in question, but from what he can tell, the man had been out of the city, in Bath. “So, we have made no progress.”
“We have madesomeprogress,” Owen corrected him, and Matthew looked up, trying not to hold onto too much hope.
“How so?”
“We further questioned Cillian Reynolds, like you asked.”
“The man who admitted to abducting Lady Juliana.”
He had kept his usual composure when he had met with the man before, but that was before… before he had begun to feel anything for Juliana.
Now, if he came face to face with him, knowing that the man had placed his hands on her to carry her away and cause such fear within her, he likely wouldn’t be able to keep himself from doing something he would never be able to come back from.
“Did he have anything new to say?”
“Actually, he did,” Owen said with a self-satisfied smile. “He told us more about who hired him.”
“Did he, now?”
“He said he received the instructions on a note – one that he gave us.”
“Let me see.” Matthew held out his hand.
